


Alive

by phrynne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cigarettes, Drabble, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, POV First Person, POV Harry Potter, Pining, Post-War, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 18:24:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11674620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phrynne/pseuds/phrynne
Summary: I’m drunk on his taste, cigarettes and mint and a fucking will to live.





	Alive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Faylinn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faylinn/gifts).



> I had this idea on my mind: them, after the war, cigarettes and a want for life that surpasses anything.  
> I decided to gift it to my dear Faylinn, my drarry partner of late :) Hope you like it and thank you for being there <3

‘You'd think we'd have stared at each other enough in sixth year,’ he says casually, taking a long drag on his cigarette.

We’ve been at it for hours: playing our usual staring game. Compulsory. When I look at him I can’t fucking breathe. So I came outside to be able to, but he followed me here and now he’s leaning against the wall, next to me and it’s excruciating. Guess we’re not that good at staying away from each other. I wonder why we should and I can’t think of a single reason.

Malfoy is wearing jeans. Black, very tight ones, probably expensive, but still they're jeans. He's also wearing a white shirt, stretched over his lean chest, showing off his arms. His veins are marked under his skin, traces of blue and green slightly visible. He never hides the traces of his Dark Mark. I find that strangely brave. Defiant. _In your face._ They’re showing, bright, on the inner side of his left arm. I want to reach out and trace the mark with my fingers. I realise, too late, that I'm staring at him for too long. He's staring right back.

‘You're not about to hex me, are you?’

I laugh at his tone. He sounds so raw, lost somewhere between confidence and doubt. I’m transfixed. Everything on my body responds to him.

‘Couldn't be farthest from my mind.’

It’s what’s on my mind that I can’t tell him, really. I can’t take my eyes of those lips, as they press the filter in between them. He exhales the smoke and I inhale it, getting dizzy. He’s making me question everything again. Right and wrong. Good or bad. The lines are blurred and I don’t care anymore.

He turns to me and holds the cigarette in front of my mouth. I reach in and my lips close around the filter and I inhale slowly, feeling his fingers brush, soft, against my lips. I close my eyes, my body relaxing into the wall, and I don’t even know if it’s from the nicotine or _Draco_. When I open them, his eyes are right in front of me. They’re every kind of grey and I can’t define them. I like that he's watching me this close, that I could just lean in slightly and I’d be touching him everywhere.

‘What’s on your mind then?’ he asks. Of course he does. He always manages to unsettle me, so I never know where I stand with him. Right now, apparently, against a wall, with his mouth too close to mine.

‘Can’t tell you,’ I say, my voice so low he only hears it because he’s standing on my personal space. And the worst is: I want him there.

His eyes are on fire now. They look like boiling silver. He gives me that smirk that I always found so infuriating. Now it unleashes something inside me, something alive. I could blame it on the Firewhiskey, but it's a lie. Truth is: he’s the only thing on my mind since the War ended.

He blows the smoke on my face and I don’t do anything to stop him. I’m pressed between him and the wall, exactly where I want to be. And I’m so hard. I want to show him how hard I am. Without even thinking, I lean closer to him, just a tiny inch, enough for my hips to brush against his. He doesn’t move away. Draco also wants me on his personal space.

‘We're still alive,’ he says, his eyes intent on mine.

I’m not exactly sure what he means. He always manages to confuse me, but I keep coming back for more. I hang on his every word, his every action, the way his eyes look troubled and bright and the way the tip of his cigarette burns bright between us, a small flame in the near darkness. His thigh brushes against mine. It’s an intentional move, I know it and it sends a jolt down my whole body.

‘You made sure I survived. And now I want to live. I want _everything_.’

His words reach me, but I can’t quite grasp the full meaning. He’s so fucking alive and I want him. He takes a long drag on his cigarette and I’m leaning in and my heart is beating on my throat, his eyes so grey, his lips parted, his breath ghosting over my face.

‘Seriously, and you're the Gryffindor,’ he whispers, voice hoarse.

And then he takes my mouth with his. I inhale the smoke, drink it down, it’s slightly minty and then there’s Draco, his taste behind it, and I’m on fucking fire. I stop thinking, I just do.

My hand clasps on his shirt and I yank him closer to me and he comes willingly, his mouth opening under mine. I’m drunk on his taste, cigarettes and mint and a fucking will to live. He tastes like a hard-on under my tongue and I want to eat him alive. Then he’s sucking on my tongue and his hands are on the inside of my thighs. There’s no limit for what they can do there. They are knowing, demanding, they climb up my thighs, no doubt about where they’re going. My breath catches, he cups me through my jeans and I want him like I’ve never wanted anyone - _anything_ \- in my fucking life. He’s rubbing me, I’m so hard that I can’t think. His deft fingers open my fly and his hand brushes over the fabric of my pants, my cock straining against his palm. I gasp when he takes my cock out, his long fingers wrapping around it so naturally. He lets the cigarette drop to the floor and his fingers grip around me. I only see dark grey eyes. I’m undressed under them and I feel so fucked already.

My hand covers his and I drag it down, slowly, our hands moving together over my length. His fingers are long and experienced, soft, teasing, I love them. Draco Malfoy is wanking me against a wall and his touch is taking me away. I reach out with my other hand and press it over his arse, pushing him closer to me. I love the feel of him, he gasps against my throat, and I feel his need now, hard and insistent against both our hands over my cock.

‘Let’s go,’ I tell him, as I manage to shift under him and finally have my hand over his bulge. Warm. Alive. I want it. Badly. I want him in my mouth.

‘I want to come with your cock in my mouth,’ I say. My voice does not shake this time. It’s raw and decisive. His eyes widen and I know this time I caught him off guard. He’s trying to breathe and he has that look, that look that makes me think I’m also everything he wants.

‘Thought you’d never ask,’ he says, and I almost have to read his lips. Instead I crush them with my mouth, eating him together with the hint of smoke and his moans - and now they’re loud against my ears - and he’s so hard against me, so alive. He bites my lips with a crushing fury, he pulls me inside his own mouth and I cry out, it stings, it’s perfect.

I grip his wrist, hard, to the point of pain, he gasps, he loves it, then my hand slides down and grasps his. In return, I get his defiant look, hard, fire, fire, until I burn. I manage to close my pants, my cock painfully hard still, and I drag him with me. I’m taking Draco somewhere we can be alone.

Draco Malfoy is everything I need. He makes me feel alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me if there was something in this you liked :)


End file.
